


Pearls

by SterlingBeryl



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Background Relationships, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Family Feels, Fire Emblem Fates: Conquest Spoilers, Friendship, Hidden Truths DLC 1 and 2 spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-09
Updated: 2017-02-10
Packaged: 2018-06-01 03:20:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6498802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SterlingBeryl/pseuds/SterlingBeryl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What his closest friends don’t understand, is that he isn’t ready to accept the world outside as his reality. Not when the pain of her death still haunts him. To watch her dissolve before his very eyes was painful. To doubt her existence would break him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pearls

Laslow sometimes dreams of the world he once walked. He dreams of her. Soleil helps with the nightmares, but sometimes her quirks and her hair reminds him so much of her he can’t breathe. 

Anankos haunts his dreams. A hooded figure with glowing red eyes reaches out towards him. Laslow’s limbs always feel congealed, stuck, within whatever darkness binds him. He watches in horror as the dark figure approaches, the limbs long and ghastly. 

“YOU PROMISED.” The figure howls, a bloodcurdling scream of pain and rage all tied into one. A cry that will last the ages, of a broken promise, of misplaced faith, of lost hope. 

At the last minute before the clammy fingers grip his face, Laslow always breaks free of whatever shackles binds him and slashes wildly at the man. But it means nothing. It is nothing but a phantom. 

He knows Selena and Odin feel the same. They were Anankos’ last bid to freedom. The guilt undoubtedly will plague them all their life as they are left to wonder when war will engulf the kingdoms again. When the darkness will try to take over Hoshido and Nohr again. But it isn’t their world, no longer their war to fight. 

It isn’t his place to mess around with fate, he tries to reassure himself. It isn’t his choice to make. Anankos surely would understand. 

But what haunts him most of all is her. The dancer. The singer. His lover. Gods, he misses her voice. 

He didn’t pay too much attention to her at first. She was always quiet, hidden away in solitude. Her demeanor was so unassuming he had trouble detecting her presence, at the start. But when she left, he could feel nothing but her throbbing absence in his heart. 

She startled him at his routine dance practice by the light of the moon, enough that he dropped his flirtatious second nature in shock. Her quiet, soft spoken nature reminded him of his mother, from so many years ago. 

Her blue tresses were reminiscent of his mother’s flowing hair. Her large, melancholy eyes a soft amber by the light of the moon. He remembered being taken aback by her beauty, and so asked her out to tea (In the middle of the night nonetheless. What a dunderhead he was).

After her swift refusal, Laslow reflected that it was the first time he hadn’t been slapped or glared at for the flirtation. Her words of praise however, were genuine, he could tell, and they caused his cheeks to burn red. 

Through the next few battles, in places that were starting to fade away from his memory, he finds that she catches his eye, over and over again, the gentle flick of her arm, the careful wielding of her staff, the way her sky blue hair catches in the wind. 

And oh, her voice. That wondrously wistful and beautiful voice that left his heart aching, his pulse racing. The drifting, buffeting melody that left him in a state of tranquility and focus, yet yearning for more when it ended. 

The next time he heard her song was in darkness, beside the lake. He would later admit to Odin, that he had spent the better part of many an evening strolling around the camp, hoping to find her. When he heard the tiniest hint of a note carried on the wind, he scrambled towards the sound. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Breathlessly, he breaks through the forest foliage and sees her, twirling by the lakeside. 

“You are the ocean's gray waves... ♪” Startled, she turns and stares at him. Realising who it is, she relaxes, and offers him a smile. 

Blushing, Laslow is grateful for the darkness. “Did I interrupt you? Forgive me, but from over here, it looked like you were dancing.” 

Azura replies, “My mother taught me a few steps.” She dances lightly on the shore, a complex sequence of footwork, with far more confidence than he ever has. “A good singer must understand dance as well.” 

He latches onto this new morsel of knowledge. “I had no idea your mother danced!" He near gibbered, "What a coincidence! My mother taught me too.” 

Azura chuckles, “Well, you certainly inherited her grace. You have such a lovely, fluid quality…” Laslow is pretty sure his cheeks are burning up, if the heat is anything to go by. 

“...But there's a hint of sadness too. I almost feel as though you are mourning for her.” Her golden eyes appraised him, carrying the barest hints of sorrow. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He remembers being taken aback by her perceptiveness, fumbling for a lie to deny it. But he knows there is no point in lying. His dance speaks more than words can hope to express, and this pale wisp of a woman knew it. 

In the rare moments in which he does not dream of Azura, he stays with Soleil, indoors, performing whatever mundane task Chrom has for him that day. He sits, and tries to grasp onto the fading light of his memories. He notices the looks Soleil gives him, as though she does not recognise him anymore. He notices the side glances and the whispers of his old comrades at the rare occasion he does leave his house, hollow eyed and full of false cheer. 

At the same time, Selena and Odin visit him everyday. Selena scolds him and straightens up the dusty house, sorting through all the cluttered mess and his discarded sketches of Azura. Odin arrives, and regales him with tales of valiant rescues and heroic deeds he has done since his return, along with his daughter Ophelia. He can sense their unease though. He is only a husk of a man, not the Inigo they once fought with. 

Ophelia’s visits bring him the most guilt and pain. She comes with tales and stories of Grima and Ylisse, likely told her by the other children, and keeps Soleil company. After quickly secured permission they scamper off into the light, away from the gloom that gathers around him. He watches Soleil leave without so much as a look back, the blue curls bouncing on her shoulders. He has been a horrible father, he knows. After bringing her back to Ylisse, he has not so much as introduced her to his old companions. 

Shigure refused his invitation to come, shaking his head sadly. The royal families need his song, he says. Corrin needs him by her side after Azura's death. As a father, Laslow recognises the budding feelings, understands Shigure's reluctance to leave, knowing not to intervene. He had laughed and patted him on the back, jokingly asking him to remember him from time to time. Little did he know that he himself would spend every moment of each passing day doing just that. 

Laslow goes crawling through the years, overturning every single moment, shimmering pearls in the currents of time. He doesn’t know what he’s looking for. He dredges up old thoughts and feelings, dusty memories and clipped voices. Fading recollections of Lord Xander, Peri, his fellow retainer. A rare smile, wild peals of laughter. Even his closest companions were slipping from his mind, into the shadows. 

What his closest friends don’t understand, is that he isn’t ready to accept the world outside as his reality. Not when the pain of her death still haunts him. To watch her dissolve before his very eyes was painful. To doubt her existence would break him. 

As such he spends his days cooped up in the house, waiting for the nights to come, because though the dreams hurt, it proves that the life he once lead was real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know what these are called, but I liked writing this. I was just wondering what would happen if one of the characters from awakening married someone rather plot-centric.  
> It gets happier later on, so stick around for when poor Laslow gets back on his feet.
> 
> EDIT: I just went and graphed the number of hits against number of kudos, trying to find the quadratic line of regression. My calculator is way too pessimistic.


	2. Dreamed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tripping over a broken dream

He waits with bated breath for the battle meeting to be over. As soon as Azura walks through the cabin door, he rushes to greet her. 

“Lady Azura,” He practically gushes. “I've looked everywhere for you! Did you see me dancing today?” Of course she did. When Lady Corrin sent her over to sing for him, Azura had given him a tiny shadow of a smile. Barely perceptible, but there.

Azura smiled, eyes wide and honest. “Yes! At first, I didn't even recognize you. You looked so strong and confident!” 

Laslow fought down the urge to jump in glee and smiled broadly. “I took your criticisms to heart and tried to channel my inner Azura.” He took a mock bow.

Azura giggled (yes, actual GIGGLING). “Well, your passion was contagious. We could all feel it.”

Laslow winked, “That’s my number one rule. Always listen to what a lady has to say. Works wonders.” Laslow felt a sudden internal panic. Why did I say that to Azura? 

Azura didn’t seem perturbed. “Actually, I wanted to apologise about that. I think I was a little harsh.” She smiled warmly. 

The ship lurched. Laslow felt extremely sickened all of a sudden. There was something wrong. 

Azura placed her hands on his shoulders. “Laslow? What’s the matter? You’ve turned pale.” He had to restrain himself from shrugging off her hands. Azura would never touch him so casually. 

The ship shook again. The mist thickened and enshrouded the ship. The very air smelt bitter. Laslow gripped the edge of the ship tightly, an irrational fear that he would fall off. Where was everyone else? He shook his head tensely. The edges of his vision blurred. 

“Laslow?” He turned and looked at her. Her smile flickered like a dying flame, a poorly cast illusion. 

He turned and leapt off the ship, into the frozen sea. He gasped as he was doused in the freezing water, nearly swallowed a mouthful of seawater in the process. 

He waited for himself to stop sinking, for the quivering light above him to get closer. It never came. He clawed at the water as he was dragged down, into the numbingly cold depths. 

He watched as the the light above got smaller, and smothered out completely. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He wakes, and promptly rolls off the bed, gasping for breath. 

“Inigo!” Selena pries his shaking hands away from his face. Rounding on Odin, she snapped “I told you to give him good memories, not a nightmare!”

Odin guiltily snaps shut a worn purple tome, and snuffs out a bunch of burnt herbs. “I tried to. He caught on.” 

Laslow shakily props himself on the bed. He places his head in his hands, groaning. 

Selena frowns, “Inigo, you can’t keep on like this. It’s time to move on.” 

Laslow breathes deeply, trying to shake off the thoughts of drowning. “Look…guys… I uh… appreciate the effort. But I don’t need this.” 

Odin gasps. “My spells are of the greatest potency. People from far and wide seek me out-“ 

“Can it, Owain.” Selena growled. Turning to Laslow, she said in a controlled tone. “Look, Inigo, we’ve given you your time and space. We’ve even been telling visitors to back off. But this, is getting ridiculous.” 

“I don’t-“ Laslow tries to speak, but Selena butts in. 

“You’re still calling us by our false names, you spend everyday cooped up in here, you barely talk to anyone. Soleil has lost both her mother and the world she has known. Are you going to have her lose her father too?” She scowled. 

“What do you mean, lose me? I’m still here. Where is she anyway?” Laslow grunted out. 

Selena ignored him, “You haven’t talked to your sister or your father, or any of your friends since you’ve come back. Time flows differently here. Apparently it’s only been six months since we left. Your mother,” She jabs him in the chest.”...is coming back from Regna Ferox. You better clean up good before you meet her.” She storms off. 

Laslow sucks in a sharp breath. Odin looks at him uneasily. “Yeah…uh…what she said.” 

Odin sits down beside Laslow, gingerly puts his arm around his shoulders. 

“You uh…want to talk about it?” He suggests.

Laslow stares straight ahead. “Actually, yes. But promise me you’ll stop giving me dreams about her.” 

Odin scratches his head, “Why not? I was sure I got her right…”

Laslow shakes his head. “Please don’t. You didn’t know her like I did. It’s weird, seeing her like that.” 

Odin shrugs. “Fine. I, Odin Dark, protector of Nohr, Bearer of the Phallic Prophecy, Guardian of the sweet Princess Elise, swear to you...”

Laslow smiled. “Do you even know what phallic means, old friend?” 

Odin wags a finger in his face. “Thou shalt not taint these saintly spells with your refuse! Hey,” Odin grinned, “Do you remember when Elise made you organise a game of love tag?” 

Laslow groans, “Don’t remind me. I barely got out of that alive. The embarrassment was burning me alive.” 

Odin smirks, “Oh, but I must thank you, in the throes of disappointment I found her, and a brighter love hath never burned!"

Laslow snorted, “You’re crazy. At least you’ll never change. Do you ever miss her?” He asked quietly. 

“Every single day.”

“…”

"But I have Ophelia. I can’t express how glad I am she decided to come with us. Soleil is sleeping over, by the way.” 

Laslow nodded, “Alright. I haven’t been a great father recently anyway.” He pauses. “I’ve been having weird dreams lately. Sometimes...It’s Anankos. Sometimes, it’s Azura. And neither are good.” Odin nods sympathetically. Laslow’s voice shook as he continued. “Her death just keeps replaying in my head, I can’t help but feel that I could have just done something different. If I hadn’t carried her outside. If I had brought a healer with me…” His gaze darkened. “Maybe if Takumi had been defeated earlier, her life force wouldn’t have drained entirely.” 

Odin was silent. Then he started hesitantly, “There’s nothing I can say that will be anything different from what you’ve already heard. Except...you have to live with your choices. Accept them. Azura...made her choice. She would want you to live with yours. 

Laslow shook his head slightly, licks his dry lips. “I CAN’T. I miss every single thing about her. At least… In the dreams, I can see her again. Keep her from fading away.” 

Odin nodded. “I get where you’re coming from. The past three years, seem to be all but a long, exhilarating, heroic, daunting, exuberant, dangerous, dream.” He finished finally with a smile.

Laslow sighs, “I even miss Lord Xander. Do you miss Lord Leo?” 

“Sure. I even miss that creepy one-eyed bastard Niles.”

Laslow shudders. “You couldn’t have said it better. He once flirted with me.” 

“No! How dare he contaminate your mind of questionable purity with his lewd suggestions?”

“In the hot springs!”

“How scandalous! No doubt it was hard for you to resist his temptations...” 

“OWAIN!” Laslow groaned, but chuckled softly as Odin burst into raucous laughter. 

A silence fell between them, a comfortable interlude in which they both knew that something had reconnected, something intangible that just should be. 

“Could we do this more often?”

“As often as you want, Inigo."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that the fact the opening scene was a badly constructed dream was obvious, I have no experience in that area. In the part where Laslow starts blaming himself, I tried to make it sound like he also blamed Corrin, and the other Royals, for not killing Takumi quicker.


	3. Wandering Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beneath a moonlit sky

He remembers their first dance, the second time he caught her wandering at night. She tells him of Queen Mikoto, how the kind queen told her to be unafraid and to sing with confidence. 

He finds himself fixated by the way her mouth twitches before a smile, fascinated by the gentle curve on her lips. He derives pleasure from seeing her smile, as she doesn’t pretend. He agrees to himself that if he ever had the chance, he’d be happy to just stare at her serene face all day. Selena would call him a lovesick fool if she knew. 

Taking a chance, he summons what he hopes is a genuine open smile, and offers her a dance. He is absolutely delighted when she agrees. Granted, being the only one dancing was not exactly what he had in mind, but he danced his heart out all the same. Besides, she was singing only for him. 

Under the spell of her song, he dances with as much passion and heart as he could. In between bounds and leaps he catches sight of her, and her ethereal beauty by the glow of the pendant makes him breathless. The confidence she radiates as she raises her arms and sings, such a contrast to her usual withdrawn self. He feels wholly inadequate next to her, a clumsy, blushing, fool. 

By the end of the night he becomes daring, and takes her hand gently and kisses it, brushing his lips against her soft skin. She withdraws her hand softly, giving him a warm smile and an indecipherable look. 

By day, in the heat of battle, they always somehow find their way to each other, fighting side by side as though it were the most natural thing in the world. He was intoxicated by her song, and the strength it gave helped him find new windows of attack, swiftly cutting through the enemy ranks. Peri who always followed him, started complaining about her unsated bloodthirst. But when Lady Corrin sighed and ordered Azura to stick with Laslow from now on, he could’ve swore that Peri winked at him.

He watched Azura closely, making sure to memorise her every move, know her every response to an attack, covering her unprotected flanks. He dealt with all the people who snuck up on her, brought vulneraries to heal her wounds any time a healer wasn’t nearby. 

By dark, he would join her on her sleepless nights. They would lie side by side in the cool grass, content to just enjoy each other’s company after the bustling and noisy day. Laslow had never experienced silence that could feel so full, so satisfying. He told her that, and after a while, Azura simply replied, “Between you and me, I feel like silence is merely an interlude between music.” They would practice dancing, commenting on each other’s footwork, while the dark slowly fades away to day. 

After a few nights of coercing, Azura finally agreed to dance with him. Clasping her hand firmly and looking on her crown of blue hair, the gap between them smaller than it had ever been, Laslow felt exuberantly happy, as though his heart could burst. 

Azura looked up at him, an amused smile playing on her lips, as she asked, “Well? Are we dancing or not?” Before he could stop himself, he bowed his head and pecked the top of her head. She stiffened, a light blush dusting her cheeks. He instantly cringed at the overly romantic gesture, but couldn’t contain his growing smile. “Of course, milady.” He led her through the steps of a formal Ylissean dance, eliminating the dips. He wasn’t ready for that type of intimacy yet. He then performed a festive tango Ylisseans danced only during events that deserve great celebration. He was out of practice, his movements rusty and disjointed, but seeing Azura look on with shining eyes gave him enough courage to continue. He ended with a flourish and a low bow, relieved he hadn’t slipped up too horribly, as she clapped. 

It was obvious to practically everyone in camp that Laslow was in love. It did not take long before people realised that he had stopped hitting on every girl he met, often muttering his answers then excusing himself quickly. The cheeky comments were gone, replaced with long brooding silences. Peri and Odin noticed first, making snide comments and teasing him, but soon whispers spread across the camp. 

Laslow wouldn’t admit it to himself, but despite their closeness, he wanted more. It was painful to observe her, during their shared dances and battles, and to wonder if she felt the same he did. The burning happiness that ignited every time she was near. Soon he was uneasy around her, wondering if it would be better to distance himself from her than suffer rejection. 

He’d gone over the details many times. It was unlikely that Azura would inherit the throne at all, if the nobles’ opinion of her stayed the same. It was also unlikely that she would be married off to gain advantage, with King Garon’s cold and uncaring attitude towards her. Nor would she have many suitors, assuming that they were after power. Therefore, he reasoned, the only thing his happiness depended on, was Azura’s acceptance of his proposal, despite their difference in social standing. 

He watched her closely out of the corner of his eye, whether during battle or their nightly dance sessions, hoping to catch even the smallest hint that she felt even the smallest bit of what he did. If she did, she concealed it well.

One day, he was summoned to Lord Xander’s study. Feeling uneasy, remembering the time he had spent cooped up in the room, he pushed open the door. Xander was sitting at his desk. 

Putting on a brave smile, he announced his presence overly cheerily. “Hello, Prince Xander! How is milord doing today?”

Xander put down his quill and turned. “Laslow, I just wish to talk to you as a friend.” 

Laslow shrugged. “If my lord wishes it.” He had a feeling he knew where this was all going. And he was none too eager to broach the subject. 

Xander nodded. “How have you been feeling recently, Laslow?”

 

Laslow grinned, “Absolutely fine, I’ve been feeling mighty fine, milord...just...fine.”

Oh dear, Xander thought. “It seems that some time after our last conversation, you’ve matured. The healers are astounded by your sudden sense of responsibility. You used to just rush headlong into battle, now they hardly have to worry about you bleeding to death.”

“Oh...bleeding to death doesn’t sound much fun...you know.”

“Just so you know, everyone’s been impressed by your change in attitude. I have our female soldiers telling me you can hold a half normal conversation now.” 

Laslow forced a smile, hoping the conversation could change direction. “Oh, you know...whatever the ladies want...and such.” 

Xander watched him with a glint in his eye. “They want to know what I said to make you somewhat more civil. But that’s not it, is it?” 

Laslow gulped, “Well...you see...I was so thoroughly guilted at your pain at my misdemeanors and lack of proper ettiquette befitting one of my station...so uh...I uhhmm…” 

“Who do you think you’re fooling, Laslow?” Xander snorted, very unroyally. 

Laslow hung his head. “When did you realise? I’m quite surprised you of all people know.” 

“Practically the whole camp knows.” Xander frowned slightly. “Then again...I don’t take notice of these things often. Camilla’s retainer told me rather brashly to do something about it.” He winced uncharacteristically. “Well, I say “told”.” 

Selena, Laslow thought. Still looking out for me, even here. He cleared his throat, “Well, I can assure you that everything’s under control.”

Xander nodded. “Right...because you have such a good track record with girls.” 

Laslow mock winced, “Oh milord...your humor is just as cutting as ever. Might wanna keep that sharp tongue in check when it’s your turn to go courting some females.”

Xander smiled, “Me? Ha! Surely you jest.” He said, chuckling. His expression turned serious. “May I remind you, Laslow, if one half of your mind is focused on this issue, only half of you is focused on the battle. By prolonging the inevitable, you are endangering yourself.” he raised an eyebrow. “And by proxy, me.” 

Laslow grumbled. “Isn’t that pushing it a little bit?”

“As my retainer, it is your responsibility to ensure my safety at all times. Your mind must not be allowed to wander.” Xander pushed him towards the door. “Now go and confess.” 

Laslow stammered, “W-wait Xander! I can’t do this! I-I mean milord!” He took a deep breath, “I-It’s not that I don’t want to...in fact that’s far from it…” 

Xander stopped and sighed impatiently, “I can’t do this all day Laslow. My life is on the line.” He snapped his fingers. “Fine. I didn’t want to have to do this. But you leave me no choice. I, order you, to confess to Azura. Before the week is out.” 

Laslow groaned, but sighed in relief internally. He didn’t have a choice now, which he was thankful for. “You did say your life was on the line...What exactly did Selena say to you?” 

Then a curious thing happened. Xander actually blushed. It was a faint pink but distinct all the same on Xander’s normally pale cheeks. Xander blinked and rubbed the back of his head, looking away from Laslow. “Well…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Laslow opened his eyes, suddenly realising something. “Oh Selena…” He sighed. “Why didn’t you tell us?” 

Selena glares at him from across the fire. They were seated around a fire pit, the crackling flames throwing a flickering glow on the clearing around. “What do you want me to tell you, you dummy?” She stretches out on her worn out blanket. “Finish your storytelling so that I can go home!”

“Now now, Severa, be nice.” Odin admonishes as he comes up behind her, plops himself next to . He hands each of them a paper package. “I have brought us all nourishment for this fruitful night of storytelling, casting a spell on our dinners to banish the demons of the night!” He cried, holding his arms towards the night sky, trembling in the light of the fire. “It shall be called- Oooooh, apple cider! Thanks Soleil!” 

Laslow felt a hand over his shoulder, and reached up to take the flask offered. “Thanks dear.” 

Soleil chuckled. “No prob! I love hearing about you and mum! Though it’s a bit embarrassing… Ophelia, catch!” She tossed a flask at the blond girl beside Odin. 

Ophelia lazily grabbed it in midair. “Thanks. It’s nice to sit here and worry about nothing. No wars, no conflict. Just a good old fire, tales of the old days and romantic pursuits. Ain’t that right, Uncle Inigo?”

Laslow paled. “W-wait, what? When since am I “Uncle”?” 

Ophelia grinned, “Well, if Lady Azura and my mum were sisters, then that makes you my uncle.” A concentrated look came over her face. “Even if I were somehow deprived of this crucial piece of knowledge of my noble heritage, I would recognise you as my own uncle.” She strikes a valiant pose, an arm stretched skywards. “Such strings of fate cannot be denied, my ancestors whispers our connection in my ear!” She looks nervously over her shoulder at her father. “How was that?” 

Odin wipes away a tear. “Beautiful.”

Soleil sighs in happiness, “You’re just TOO adorable! How are you such a cutie?” 

Selena snorts. “Idiots, the lot of you.” She props herself up. “I guess...I could talk a bit about that...But only because you made me! I DON’T, want to talk about it.” She said, glaring at the ring of people looking expectantly at her. 

Laslow chuckled. “I don’t know where you got the impression that we thought otherwise. Please carry on your reluctant narration.” 

Selena groaned. “Fine.” She frowned, “You guessed right. I had a small crush on Prince Xander. Mind you, a very very VERY tiny little crush. I might have imagined the whole thing.”

Odin chuckled, “The great Severa, CRUSHING on someone. What a scandal!”

“SHUT UP! It was so insignificant, alright? I basically told Lord Xander that he was so stiff and rigid all the time, that he should loosen up a bit. I offered him comedy lessons. Surprisingly, he accepted. I supposed it was because I told him it was for the good of Nohr.” She sighed.

Laslow nodded. “Sounds like Lord Xander all right.” 

Ophelia beamed, “My uncle! Of great and heroic descent!” 

Soleil grinned, “Mine too! Woah, who knew we had so much in common?” 

Selena sniffed, “Stop interrupting! Humph. I don’t know what came over me, alright? It was stupid, and laughable, because it was like I was repeating what my mum’s mistake all over again. But he was so nice though. Even though I got him sent to the infirmary after he made one joke… Your mum actually started crying because she thought he was sick in the head.” She said grinning at Ophelia. 

Soleil laughed, “Don’t blame her, I can’t really imagine Lord Xander making a joke!” 

Selena took a swig of apple cider. “I guess I was intimidated by him at first. Not like I was the only one! But I slowly realised what Lady Camilla said, he was kind and compassionate. And...that's more important than being funny, really.” 

Ophelia sighed, “And so you fell in love with him. Oh, the embers of distant love glimmer in your heart.” 

Selena scowled, “What do you mean, distant love?” She scratched at the coals with a stick, a far away look on her face. “Oh, you guys know the rest of it. Him being crown prince, me, having this world to return to. I couldn't look at him without thinking of the the fact I had to leave soon. So I sort of hid from him, after apologising.” 

Odin spoke, chewing thoughtfully on a piece of jerky. “You have great self restraint to be able to do that. My aching blood yearns for Elise’s affections even now.” 

Selena stared at the ground. “Then Inigo started moping around. And I had to do something...So I went and gave Lord Xander an earful about doing something for his retainer once in a while. And then...he just...” She sighed, staring at the fire. The golden sparks leapt skywards, vanishing against rhe deep midnight blue.

The look of doleful sadness on Selena’s face made Laslow’s heart clench. “Severa...you don’t mean…” 

Selena looked up. “Hey, you’re calling me by my name now. But yeah. He proposed. He told me there was no one better to be queen of Nohr. Something about speaking freely… But I had this world, and family to go back to. I can’t just up and abandon them. And I can’t accept Xander’s proposal and leave a few months later.”

Laslow sighed as well, “So you turned him down. Oh Severa…”

She scowled, “Don’t you Oh Severa me! What’s in the past stays in the past! Ugh, can’t believe I actually told you. It’s not like I miss him or anything…Turns out, I’m the only one of us that remained focused on the mission, cus you guys went looking for love.” 

Odin chewed on his bread thoughtfully. “It’s been about two weeks since we left. That means, that around three months have passed over there. Lord Xander is probably KING Xander now. Oh, they do grow up so fast, don’t they?” 

Soleil winked at Ophelia. “I wonder if Percy has gotten together with Sophie yet. Ohh, I’m getting excited thinking about it.” 

Ophelia shudders but smiles all the same. “You’re horrible.” 

Laslow added “And, Shigure’s probably with Lady Kamui by now.” 

Odin said, “If he’s anything like you, probably.”

Selena snorted, “If he’s anything like you, definitely not.” 

“Hey, that’s not fair!” Laslow protested. He sighed. “Your sharp tongue never fails to sting.” 

Selena winked at him. “In any case, it’s time for bed. It’s wayyy past midnight.” 

Laslow stared. “Midnight? W-wait-”

Odin stood up and stretched. “I agree. Though these stories of the old days have enraptured me so, even a hero of darkness needs sleep.” 

Laslow looked wildly from one person to the next. “But... we haven’t finished!” He tried to calm his mind. 

Already, tendrils of anxiety and fear were digging into his thoughts. The thought of absolute darkness in the musty house filled him with dread. It weighed heavily on his heart. 

Ophelia grinned, “Sorry, unkie, but we have a night of fun ahead of us! Right, Soleil?” 

Soleil was watching her father silently. “Actually…’Phelia… I’ll take a raincheck on that sleepover.” She said quietly. Laslow’s breath caught in his throat. 

Soleil yawned widely and clapped Ophelia on the back, laughing. “I’m wayyyy to tired to have a night of fun! Much as I like to. Don’t be down, I’ll make sure we have TWICE the fun next time, cutie. Alright?” 

Ophelia smiled, looking confused. “Oh...uh alright. See you next time, comrade - no, HERO in arms.” 

Soleil watched as she left with Odin. “Yeah...wow, she’s great. Anyway, Dad, I’m gonna go get water, you stay here and finish your dinner, alright?” She ran off in the direction of the well. 

Selena kicked dirt over the fire. “You have an amazing daughter. You don’t appreciate her enough.” 

Laslow winced. “Trust me, I know. It’s always her looking out for me instead of the other way around.” The guilt bore down on him now. It tugged at him throughout each and every day, but he still couldn’t face his comrades, to see their looks of pity and sorrow, to let them see the hollow man he has become. 

Selena poured the rest of her cider over the fire. The tiny flames hissed and sputtered. “Yeah. That’s what we’re all trying to do.” The warmth of the fire gone, Laslow felt unbearably cold, hollowness once again seeping into his heart. 

They fell silent, watching the dying embers. The clearing was thrown into shade. Long yawning shadows draped across the forest. Laslow could barely see the outline of Selena’s face in the dim light. A chilled breeze crossed the clearing, sweeping in with a rustling whisper, occasionally accentuated by the hoot of an owl. Laslow shivered. 

He scuffed at the dirt at his feet. “Listen...I uh…I-I’m really sorry for the past two weeks…” Selena was quiet. He squinted, trying to make her out, wondering if she was still there. “I acted like I was the only one who had lost someone. Whether it be to death or time.” 

Selena turned towards him. He couldn’t really see her expression, as her face was cast in shadow. “Look, don’t sweat it. Just don’t stay like this forever.”

The clearing was getting cooler, yet he could feel the sweat gathering at the back of his neck, inching down his forehead. It was becoming harder to swallow, so he opened his mouth, “It’s just that… When she died I was holding her, I was calling her, saying her name, I was crying, but she wasn’t crying, and I tried to do something, anything - ” He was rambling, words in a jumble, “- but the vulneraries weren’t working, the elixirs weren’t working, no one was around, and she asked me to carry her, take her to the water, so I did, I didn’t THINK, and, it was like watching my parents die all over again, except there was nothing left, and I felt s-so helpless!” The last word came out in a near sob, and suddenly, Selena was there, hugging him. 

“Sh...shh shhh… I getcha.” He leaned his forehead on her shoulder and blinked away the tears. They stayed like that for a while, Laslow waiting for the tightness in his throat to go, Selena waiting for his shoulders to stop shuddering. 

Finally, Laslow swallowed and straightened up. The heaviness in his heart marginally better. Selena eyed him. “You alright?” 

He nodded. She sighed. “Better go back, Soleil will be worried about you. If you ever need another good shoulder to cry on,” he could see the corners of her lips turn upwards slightly, “...I’ll be there. With a towel.” 

But then she frowned. “But don’t you dare cry in front of Soleil. If you do, I will forcefully punch you back into shape.” 

Laslow chuckled weakly. “I gotcha. Better go now, you need your beauty sleep after all.” 

“Yep! Dad’s taking me shopping tomorrow! Goodnight, Inigo.” She strode into the darkness gathered around the clearing. Laslow headed home, turning to look back once at the pinpricks of orange that were once a merry flame.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thing is, I'm terrible at dialogue. I don't know what I'm supposed to DO with it.
> 
> I'm not going to tag Selena/Xander, because I barely mention them at all


	4. Soleil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To know the stars

Soleil greeted him at the door. “Hey Dad, what took you so long? I was beginning to think you got lost!” she shut the door behind him. 

Laslow chuckles hollowly. “Me? Get lost? I know this place like the back of my hand.” He feels the orange glow of the hearth bathe his face in warmth.

Soleil stares at his face. “Jeez, your eyes are red. What happened?” 

Laslow rubbed his eyes self consciously. “Oh, the wind picked up a bit.” He kicked off his boots and sat down at the table, staring into the flames. 

Soleil shook her head at him. “Oh, oh no you don’t!” She slams a cup down on the table, startling Laslow. “No more moping around. I’m not alright with a cliffhanger to your story!” 

Laslow looked at her gleaming eyes. “Well, what do you want me to do, adorable daughter of mine?” 

Soleil grinned, “Quick with the compliments, aren't you? Is that how you got Mom to fall for you? Oh! Also, how exactly did you propose to her?” She leaned in across the tabletop eagerly. “Was it romaaaantic, hee hee?” 

Laslow groaned, “Soleil! Don't you think it’s a little too late? You should sleep…plus, that’s a little personal.”

Soleil pouted, “Geez, no need to be shy. It'll be more embarrassing for ME to hear about it! I don’t wanna imagine my father and mother doing that sort of stuff...actually...”

Laslow asked warily, “But if the answer will embarrass you, then why did you ask?”

Soleil quieted down, glancing at the floor, “Honestly, I know I’ve said it before, but I just feel like we have so much lost time to make up for now that I'm out of the stupid Deeprealms. With you, in this whole new world.”

Laslow’s heart sunk, “Oh, Soleil... I'm so sorry you had to grow up there.” He murmured. “I know how lonely you were. I mean…” He said even more quietly. “...I know now.” 

The silence of the approaching night was increasingly unappealing after the lively firepit, of smiles, laughter, companionship. He’d nearly forgotten how good hearty banter felt. The thought of staring out blindly into the dark, seeing the blue moonlight spill through the window, brought aching memories to his heart. A shimmering lake, a fleeting smile, flashed before his eyes. 

He shook his head to clear his mind. Soleil was uncharacteristically silent, for some reason, staring into empty space. Then she burst out, “Dad, I’m so sorry!” 

Laslow was stunned, even taken aback to see her eyes glimmer, as though tears were about to fall. “W-wait, what do you have to be sorry for?” He asked, baffled.

Soleil clenched and unclenched her fist. “I’m always away. Playing with Ophelia. I hardly ever have time for you. Ever since we came here.” 

Laslow looked worried, “Don’t worry about me.” He smiled, “I love that you’re having fun, hanging with your friends. Anyway, I’ve hardly been fulfilling my duty as a father.” 

Soleil shook her head resolutely. Another pause. Then, “I should have realised sooner that what you need wasn’t alone time. Like, tonight was the most energetic I ever saw you since...mom’s going. And you looked so happy.” Laslow’s mouth went dry. 

She continued sadly. “You’d think that with all that time in the Deeprealms, I should be able to recognise a poor lonely soul. I guess I never thought that you would be lonely…” 

“Soleil…” Laslow choked. For some reason, Selena’s threat came to mind. 

She looked at him determinedly. “Don't worry about it; that's all in the past now. I just felt like I was taking you for granted. I'm just so happy we're finally together.” Soleil suddenly slammed the tabletop with her fist. The cups clattered. “I am going to throw sooooo many firepit parties! And tea parties! Whatever it takes for you to smile again! Like, smile constantly.” She smiled radiantly. “I won’t let you be lonely. You’re going to live again.” 

Laslow was trying to abate the stinging in his eyes. There was an uncomfortable but not wholly unpleasant feeling in his heart. A tinge of guilt, but mostly happiness full to the brim. Instead of sinking, the feeling buoyed and expanded. Blinking rapidly, he replied with a wide smile, “You really are the best daughter a father could ask for. C’mere,” He wrapped his arms around Soleil and leaned his cheek against her sky blue hair. 

So many hugs today, he thought. Maybe I really am starved for affection. “Did Chrom give you that hairband?” He said, tracing the familiar pattern and the raised ridges in the fabric. 

Soleil giggled, “Tee-hee! Yup! He also said…” Here she looked at him and gave him a devious grin. “That you, that is, the tiny you, would sneak into granny’s room to steal it, then run outside and dance with it wrapped around your neck.” 

Laslow groaned, “Oh gods. Don’t listen to his stories. And,” He said, booping her on the nose, “If I ever hear you repeating that, I won’t tell you stories about your mum.” 

Soleil giggled. “Right! Awesome!” She bounded up, “I nearly forgot!” She grabbed a paper package from the cupboard. 

“What’s that?” Laslow asked curiously. 

Soleil slowly unwrapped it, handling it carefully. Laslow could now see the pale golden that peeked from behind the oiled paper. “Gaius wanted me to give this to you! Wait... I think you weren’t supposed to know that. Well, here you go.” She winked. 

Laslow’s first reaction was to snort. “Gaius? Are we talking about the same Gaius here?” He asked, as he bit into the golden flaky pastry. The center was filled with strawberry jam, soaked like sunshine into the pale underside of the crust. “Oh man…” flakes fell as he spoke, “This is delicious.”

Soleil smiled excitedly, “Yep! He’s really nice actually, he just pretends not to care.” She bounced on the soles of her feet. “Oh, and did you know, his son Morgan has nearly finished finished his lessons at Ylisstol College? Like, wow! He’s smart, and I heard from Cynthia that he’s a cutie too! I can’t wait to meet him. You should have told me about your old comrades earlier, I bet you have loads of stories that Aunt Lissa doesn’t, being from the future and all. I gotta meet all your friends!” 

As Soleil rambled on about his friends and old comrades, with shining eyes and Laslow reflected that it was ironic that in the end, she was the one to reintroduce him back into his old life, to ease him back into the unfamiliar routines and rhythm of Ylisstol life. 

She was the best thing Azura could have ever given him. 

 

They ended up talking through the rest of the night, Laslow recounting the adventures of the shepherds, tales of Grima and the future. 

He started hesitantly, more out of inability to recall the past, than reluctance. Soleil and her shining eyes encouraged him though, as she listened enraptured, and he pushed to recall every action, every feeling. His memories came slowly, piece by piece, but started to flow as he tugged them from the dark place they were locked. 

Despite the recollection and his daughter’s entrancement, he knew he was missing the pieces. He would’nt let Soleil know, but it bothered him. Fragments, of a life once lived. Grayed impressions of people that flickered once and vanished. 

He missed his family. 

Soleil’s yawns grew frequent, and out the windows he could slowly see the smudged darkness take on a tinge of pink. He sent her to bed, tucking her in and kissing her goodnight. She was asleep before she hit the mattress, yawning a goodnight at him. 

Laslow stands alone in the dark clearing outside, clutching a blanket around him, staring up at the vanishing stars, as the day drags away the fabric of night. He recognises the stars, the constellations and their names, whispered to him so many years ago by his mother. 

He stands among them, reaching and grasping at each shining moment, piecing together the scrambled fragments of his life. 

He is brought back to a lazy afternoon, before the war, in which his mother smiles shyly, dances elegantly, casting a graceful shadow on the wall. His father claps, a gentle smile on his lips, and Lucina grabs little Inigo by the hands and tries to imitate. The tender memory fades in the honeyed glow, slanting sunlight capturing them in time. 

The darkness isn’t so bad, he reflects, as the fiery orange grazes the top of the trees, when there are stars in your world that stay, through love and pain. 

Inigo. He whispers, to himself. “Inigo,” He says, a bit clearer, now. 

“My name is Inigo.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really need to read up on how to write better dialogue. But genuinely, I love Soleil. She's really nice and sensitive to her father, despite her rashness and boisterous manner, she is'nt mean to people. Their A support made me really really like her, the way she diverts attention away from what causes Laslow pain, without making it awkward or heavy. I need to make sure I can somehow show her sensitivity somehow in future chapters.


	5. Clouds

Inigo sat on the crest. He propped himself up on his arms as he settled himself in the soft grass. 

The wind whipped around his hair, falling softly and settling into a gentle, tugging, breeze, as he looked out over the capitol. The rosy buildings, dabbed by the early morning sun, glowed as the sunlight inched downwards over the stonework. 

He would be happy to sit here everyday, just to see the golden hue flood the capitol, feel it awaken with sounds of laughter and joy, rouse the bustling hum of life from its winding streets. A city that lives, and breathes. 

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Lucina came from behind, crouched and sat beside him, stretching her legs in front of her. 

“Yes, it truly is.” Inigo agreed, as he gazed over the city. “I can hardly remember the way it looked during Grima’s reign.” In fact, he tucked away that horrifying thought in the depths of his mind. There was no point in awakening shadows, not now, not ever. Think of the breeze, think of the warm earth beneath his palms.

There was a comfortable silence that fell over the two. Laslow let himself down into the grass. Fiery clouds spread across his vision, lazy and brilliant with color. Feeling the grass tickle his face, he closed his eyes and felt the sunlight softly kiss his face. 

“It’s a bit strange, this feeling.” Inigo starts haltingly. He feels Lucina’s presence next to him, a column of comfort that breathes, that lives. “It comes sparingly, for the most part.” He remembers the night he and Azura spent stargazing, spent from a dance together. And as he clutched her hand, he was overwhelmed with the feeling that everything was all right with the world. A languor that he drank in hungrily, as he lay beside her under the winking stars. 

“I think that what you describe is peace, dear brother.” Lucina smiled. “It has been a long time, hasn’t it?” She laid down beside him with a thump. “I mean, I can actually smile now.” Inigo chuckled as she grinned at him between the fronds of grass, “And I don’t think it was from your lessons!” 

Inigo replied, “Well… We did come from a timeline of destruction. It’s only normal we’d always be looking over our shoulders.” He turned to her then. “Shouldn’t we be continuing on patrol by now?”

Lucina shrugged, a rare display of nonchalance. “I told them to go on up ahead. Ophelia is with Gerome, they’ll be fine.” She paused. “We have some time to talk a bit.” 

Inigo nodded. This had to come sooner or later. He sat up and crossed his legs. 

Lucina watched him closely, mouth set in a firm line. “Are…you alright with this? You’re not going to break down again right?” 

Inigo winced at the blunt question. “Yes, I can talk about it, to some degree. In fact, in a way, I’d appreciate it.” 

He must have looked more forlorn than he felt, because Lucina clapped him on the back. “No need to be nervous, I just want to hear about what happened while you were gone! You know, as siblings… should?” 

“Your affection is overwhelming.” Inigo said, grinning. 

Lucina chuckled. “So, exactly what happened to you? Owain and Severa told me all about the time gimmicks, which is how you appeared after six months with a fifteen year old daughter.”

“I fell in love.” Inigo said. He closed his eyes, recalling Azura’s gentle, loving smile. A solid, whispered promise. The pain twanged lightly, but fell away as the breeze blew against his face. “It was lovely.” 

“Ah.” Lucina nodded. “We were really worried you know.” 

Inigo winced. “Yes, I know -” 

“- No, you don’t know. It was TERRIFYING.” Lucina glared at the ground. “You can’t know the feeling. My brother, the person I could always count on to be merry, had suddenly turned into this moping, shut off person. I barely even saw you in the two weeks after you returned.”

Inigo’s heart wrenched. The wind at his back felt chilly all of a sudden. He knew he was worrying his family, but he never considered exactly what they would think. He had been intentionally cutting off his family, in an attempt to preserve what was irretrievable. 

He couldn’t meet Lucina’s eyes. “...I was being...foolish.” 

“That may be the case, but no, I don’t think so.” He raised his eyes to meet Lucina’s stare. “We all do rather extreme things to protect the ones we love. I suppose...that in some strange, wrangled, Inigo fasion, that was what you were trying to achieve.”

Inigo chuckled hollowly. “You make me sound so noble. That period was nothing but a product of my own selfishness and pain.” 

Lucina stood up and stretched. “In any case, I don’t pretend to know your pain. But please, don’t let mother see you that way.” She grasped his shoulder lightly. “It would break her heart.”

Inigo frowned. “I don’t think I can go back to how I acted before.” 

“You don’t have to. In fact, I rather you not.” Lucina grinned, then added quietly. “Don’t pretend three years of your life never happened, Inigo. Especially three as fruitful as this. They shaped who you are as of now. She shaped who you are.” She patted his shoulder, “So don’t go changing to make us more comfortable, alright?” 

Inigo nodded, speechless. 

“I hope to hear more about her in the future. Owain and Severa didn’t really tell me much other than the fact she sang.”

Inigo grinned now, “Awkward sibling hug?” He asked, smiling widely.

Lucina smiled, her nose scrunching up in mock disgust. “I suppose I have no choice.” Inigo lurched upwards and they hugged briefly, awkwardly, as though out of practice. 

It had been three years since he had hugged his family, Inigo reflected ruefully. 

“Sincere sibling hug, then.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The bandits left as quickly as they had come, leaving behind their bound companions as they escaped. Inigo collapsed onto the dusty ground, hands trembling frightfully. He pried his trembling fingers away from his sword, sighing a shaky breath of relief as it clanged on the ground. 

The bandits had surrounded them as soon as they regrouped with Soleil and Gerome, snarling surprisingly vicious curses and threatening them for gold. 

Inigo quickly drew his sword, circling behind a man that clumsily jabbed at him with a spear. 

A quick slash at the arm, a blow to the back of the head with the hilt of his sword, and the bandit fell, knocked flat on his stomach.

It was laughably easy, and he turned with a grin, and a comment, to check on Azura. 

But she wasn’t there. 

Inigo’s breath came hard and fast as he looked wildly around. He spotted Soleil, Lucina, and Gerome in fleeting glances, engaged in their own frantic brawl. The dust clouded his vision, and his head ached with a sudden ringing in his ears. He bent over, panting, tasting the dry dust in the air. He could hear grunts and cries of pain close by, and they spun in his mind. 

“Father!” A scream broke through the fog that clouded his mind. He heard a stuttering growl behind him, a hiss of drawn steel, and he turned just in time to dodge the blade. He stumbled and nearly fell,the earth spinning under his feet.

His attacker raised his sword and lurched forward to slash at him. Inigo saw the figure loom closer, and he fumbled with his sword, twisting away again. 

The cold steel barely grazed his arm. 

It stung. It hurt. He instinctively gripped his arm. 

Was it painless when you left, Azura? 

His hands shook wildly. He slipped into a weak stance, trembling from head to toe, holding his sword up defensively as the bandit rose to swing again. 

A flash of blue barreled into the bandit, and the bandit fell back, stunned by the sudden impact. 

Inigo struggled to clear his mind. “Soleil.” He murmured. “I have to…” he rose from the dust.

Soleil met the bandit’s sword attack for attack, an angered expression on her face. She struck and twisted with a reckless ferocity, the bandit flinging his sword frantically to parry off the attacks. The bandit was forced backwards, blow after blow. 

Soleil shoved at the bandit and he fell, losing the grip on his sword. She calmly grabbed his foot and twisted it, and with a sickening crack he howled in pain. “Don’t worry,” she said cheerfully, looking down at the bandit. “It’s just a bad sprain. If you had actually hurt my father though, you’d have gotten a lot worse.” 

She ran over to Inigo, looking concerned. “Father? Dad? You okay?” she asked, grabbing his shoulders tightly. 

Inigo had stood up shakily. He reached out and stroked her face affectionately. “Yes. Thanks. I mean, thank you, Soleil.” 

Soleil patted his hand. “Dad, you’re leaving dust on my face.” She said, laughing forcefully, patting his hand away. “What happened to you there? You froze!” 

Inigo’s voice was tremulous. “I’m sorry darling. Maybe you should leave me here. I promise I won’t fight anymore.” He stared at his clasped hands.

“No way! I’m not leaving you!” Inigo could hear the pout in her voice. 

“Go! Now! You won’t fight well picking up my slack!” Over the dune he could hear Ophelia’s dramatic monologue.

Soleil cast him one final glance and took off. 

Inigo was left standing alone. The blood red clouds darkened, and the sky mellowed with night, before he could hear the others yelling for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am terribly sorry DX this is the first week I haven't had exams, so I can finally finish this chapter. And I've been spending too much time drafting another fanfic's plot line, so procrastination took over.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Chrom stops being a douche. (seriously Chrom the boy's shy)

“Laslow, don’t you ever miss home?” He starts at the sombre question, after god knows how long exchanging mirthful and frivolous matters of the day. Laidback in the middle of their clearing (truly, he cannot see it as anything other than theirs), inches apart. If he inclined his head just the slightest he could see the contours of her features, as they dip gracefully over her brow and rise softly over the bridge of her nose, watch as the strands of hair over her mouth quiver gently, in tune with each breath. 

“Yeah, fairly often.” Now, if he dared, he could reach out just the slightest with his fingers, and graze the nearest blue ribbon of hair. It’d be easy, like...pouring a cup of tea.

Azura furrowed her brow, and Laslow noticed it sent shadows flaring briefly across her cheek. “My thoughts always stray to Hoshido when I’m not busy doing something or another. And to me… that is home. Not just Hoshido, but that golden time I spent there with people that cared for me.” 

I care about you, Laslow could have said. In fact it would be more accurate to say he could not get enough of her, to tell her she is the reason he smiles in the morning and faces the day, that he can remember every single smile she gave. Instead he said, “Thinking about family helps me concentrate in battle. It gives me something I feel I can fight for.” Her eyes look green in the blue light, he mused. A warm, careful sort of green. “I fight so I can go back home to them.” 

She fingered a lock of her hair, and Laslow watched the slender fingers from the corner of his eye, those fingers that in battle are always clenched white around her staff. “That’s a nice thought.” And as always, whenever the topic of family was broached, Azura would space out and look deep in thought. 

“In truth, I don’t feel a connection to Nohr. Despite being technically a princess of Nohr, I’m not fighting for Nohr. All I have left to fight for is peace.” 

It would be so easy to tell her his name. Just whisper it. Then he could get rid of this frankly, slightly ridiculous name, at least when he was with her. Immersed in the role of Laslow, mysterious swordsman of unknown origins, was not as fun as it used to be.

“Laslow?” He blinked and turned his head to see Azura looking at him quizzically. He swallowed. So simple. 

He cleared his throat, “Uh yeah, I spaced out for a bit there, sorry.” He turned on his side. “I share the same sentiment. This isn’t my homeland, and I cannot fathom willingly losing my life in this war.” 

Laslow noticed Azura was staring intently at him. He hoped that she didn’t think any less of him for his following words. “Lord Xander is a noble and admirable man, but… I just don’t think I could sacrifice myself for him the way Peri would. If that makes me a selfish and dishonest man, then so be it... because I have to go back home.” 

God that was good to say. Laslow wasn’t sure if Odin and Selena felt the same or not, and didn’t feel comfortable broaching the subject with them. Selena would likely scorn him for his lack of duty, and Odin would feel scandalized by his apparent cowardice. 

But shouldn’t it be justifiable, considering he was here in a strange world out of childhood fairytales, fighting a war that wasn’t meant to be his to fight? 

Laslow started. Azura had sat up and placed a hand on his shoulder. The touch was gentle, tender, even. Yet it managed to feel electrifying. 

Funny how even with all their dancing, a simple touch managed to feel so good, and undeniably leaving a craving for more. 

Laslow raised his eyes slowly to meet Azura’s gaze. She was wearing the queerest expression. If he had to describe it, it would primarily be thoughtful, and her brow was furrowed slightly as though she were pondering something sad, perhaps even disappointing. 

“Hey, I don’t judge you, its only human to love your family.” she smiled gently. 

If Laslow thought it could not be possible to love her even more, he was just proven wrong. 

“Azura, I may have only known you for a short while, but I feel like I have known you forever in these past weeks. Suffice it to say,” Laslow paused to gather his thoughts, take a deep breath. “That cheesy, superficial language cannot begin to express my appreciation for you, in so many ways more than one.” 

Azura may or may not have been blushing. It was hard to ascertain in the pale light. Yet Laslow ploughed on. 

“What I mean to say is… you have become so, so much more than a friend to me...and I just wanted to say that...you are to me as dear as family.” 

As suddenly as the fountain of words that burst forth, Laslow ceased, seemingly embarrassed by his outburst. 

Azura looked touched by his admission, or maybe it was embarrassment at his direct expression. In any case, she hid her face for a good few minutes before murmuring a soft thank you. 

Inigo forgot to tell her his name before the end of everything. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He was seated quite a ways from the camp mess hall, staring forlornly at his meal. The roughly chopped surface of the stump dug into his flesh, and the wind was sweeping colder as the days went on, yet he couldn’t summon the courage to face his comrades. 

Pushing the incident from earlier today from his mind, he stood and abandoned his meal on the stump. Perhaps some training would clear his head. Or a bath. If memory serves correctly there should be a small waterfall around here… 

“Oh my god! INIGO!” Someone screeched his name excessively loudly. Probably loud enough for the entire mess hall to hear. Ears burning, Inigo turned just to have the wind knocked out of him by Cynthia. 

“Oh...jeez...Cynthia...Can’t...BREATHE!” Inigo gasped, patting her on the back. She let go after one final squeeze and immediately launched into rapid fire conversation. 

“Inigo! I haven’t seen you in forever! Where have you been all this time? Owain and Severa returned AGES ago from whatever heroic adventure you guys went on. I missed you, you know? I mean, well we all did but you were gone for months so its totally justifiable.”

Inigo smiled, basking in the familiarity of Cynthia’s over-enthusiasm. Well. Tried to anyway. Because soon the only thought running through his head was can’t breathe as Cynthia hugged him again. 

Owain and Lucina were skulking behind a bush not far away, ready to intervene if Cynthia were to overstep. Inigo could see the expression on Owain’s face and know that he was suppressing laughter at Cynthia’s antics, and Inigo’s predicament. Inigo rolled his eyes in their direction. 

Cynthia was talking excitedly again. “I mean, you HAVE to come and sit with us. They’re all dying to see you again, and I’M dying to hear your stories. Don’t hide yourself over here, moping around, did some fleet-footed damsel shun you again?” 

From this Inigo could only guess that the other children didn’t know about Azura yet, which was both a relief and a painful thought. Because while he was slightly tired of being treated with kid gloves, he didn’t want to be the one to tell them, and suffer the questions and pitying looks. 

The bush was rustling conspicuously, and sounds of a scuffle came with it. Inigo shot it a look, quickly smiled and agreed to being dragged to the mess hall, before an awkward confrontation between his friends could take place. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dinner was light and jovial, all his friends and oldest comrades come to welcome him home. No one questioned his fighting mishaps today, no one asked about the bags under his eyes, which he was grateful for. He jostled from table to table, shaking hands and exchanging hugs, receiving brotherly pats on the back. Noire, Kjelle, Nah, even Laurent welcomed him enthusiastically. 

Owain and Lucina slunk in after him a while ago, and even followed him from table to table, earning a few puzzled looks, but they left after seeing he was in good hands. 

The older shepherds were less forthcoming, giving him formal nods and polite smiles. Inigo did not care. His former reputation was nothing to be proud of, and it made sense that the older shepherds only saw him as a flirtatious womanizer. It did bother him though that his father was nowhere to be seen. All he wanted was to see his parents, make time for their long overdue reunion. 

Soon he’ll get to see his mother again. 

Surrounded by warm and friendly faces, the homely Ylissean accent buzzing in his ears both foreign and familiar, Inigo willingly surrendered to the crowd, joining the small talk and gossip, at times even laughing at the stories dramatically told. When Soleil finally walked in later with Ophelia, she was welcomed by the sight of Inigo laughing away at Vaike’s jokes. 

Subconsciously, Inigo found himself comparing the comfortable mood in the mess hall to that of the Nohrian army. The tables were oft barren, and meals were perplexing (Inigo lacked a better word to describe the baffling concoctions) prepared from the meagre variety that grew in the Astral Plane. 

Perhaps more strikingly different, the atmosphere was terse and politely quiet, as soldiers huddled in groups and held careful conversations about tactics, politics, concerned remarks about each other’s wounds. Once or twice in a meal a soft chuckle may be heard, squashed quickly under the suppressingly heavy mood.

 _I really have almost forgotten what peace is like_ , Inigo reflected ruefully. He felt detached from everything that was happening around him, from all the rabble and crowd. Even when Sumia spilled wine all over his food. _And you’re never sure how long it might last._

Excusing himself from the mess hall rapidly, Inigo had to decline invitations to activities the next day, as well as coercion to stay longer. He had a mission to accomplish. 

Lucina gave him the general directions to his father’s cabin, shaking her head when he offered her to come with. “It’d be best if you guys talk in private first.” giving him a look. 

Ah. The Lucina look. Inigo gulped. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fifteen minutes later, Inigo was sitting awkwardly on the couch, as his father poured him wine from a flask. 

He had found his father chatting happily with Robin, fussing over tiny Lucina and Inigo, as they scampered and squirmed around. 

This was his father, no longer crushed under the weight of war and the expectations of his people, able to enjoy and drink in life like a cup full to the brim. 

Chrom looked pretty much the same, save for the broader smile and the shorter hair. But Inigo couldn’t quite put a finger on what felt different about his father, not in any discernible manner. 

He wouldn’t have thought it possible, but Chrom’s smile widened even more upon seeing him. His eyes crinkled at the corners, and the look of pure joy on his face made Inigo genuinely smile. 

“Inigo!” He enveloped Inigo in a bear hug and clapped him on the back. “I haven’t seen you in ages.” 

Inigo awkwardly clapped his hand on Chrom’s shoulder. 

Chrom ushered him in. Robin glanced at him as he entered, noticing his slight discomfort. “You look tired Inigo. How much sleep did you get last night?” She asked mildly with a smile. Baby Inigo tugged at her sleeve, babbling for candy. 

He had another nightmare. Inigo replied with a nod, “I slept well, thank you ma’am.” Robin raised an eyebrow. Inigo flushed. 

“Well, he looks plenty fine to me!” Chrom butted in. He was practically beaming. 

Robin smiled. “Well then. I’ll leave you two to it.” She gripped Lucina and Inigo’s hands even as they tried to squirm away. “I’ll help you put these two to bed, Chrom.” 

Chrom thanked her, and as she walked away Lucina’s voice wheedled, “But its only nine!...” And faded away. 

Chrom turned to Inigo then. “Come on. I’d like to hear all you’ve been up to.” 

Inigo perched on the edge of the couch. In his mind’s eye, he could picture how his father’s tent had always been. Though accommodating, it’s needs were provided by clunky wooden furniture everyone else used; light and able to suffer all kinds of wear and tear. Points of luxury had snuck in now, the bedroll replaced by a bed with silk sheets, a beautifully carved chair in the corner. 

Chrom sat back on said chair. “So what have you been doing?”

“Well, we helped to end an all out war.” 

Chrom nodded, “Owain told me about that. But what about afterwards?”

Afterwards?...Ah. 

Inigo flinched inwardly but before he could speak, Chrom chuckled and said, “Trust me, Owain’s elaborated far enough on how heroically he saved everyone. What happened during your mission?” 

Inigo blurted. “What mission?” 

Chrom raised an eyebrow. “You stayed for another weeks to do something else didn’t you?”

“Oh. Oh yes…” Inigo answered meekly. “It was a simple matter of...protecting someone. I had to...escort royalty.” 

Rather, protecting himself as he locked himself up and didn’t face reality. His face felt hot and he could hardly look Chrom in the face. 

Chrom sighed in relief. “I’m glad you’re back at Ylisse. We need our prince home.” 

Some ylissean prince he was. 

“And you’ve been fighting for so long.” 

Chrom thought him some kind of warrior hero. Lucina’s a hero, I’m not. 

“Inigo, I’m proud of you.” Inigo looked up. 

His father was smiling widely. “Do you hear me, son?” 

He picked at an invisible thread on his leather armor. “I have said some untrue accusations before. In hindsight, they were terrible and insensitive things to say, considering you grew up in Grima’s hellscape.”

Despite looking slightly embarrassed, Chrom ploughed on, unaware of Inigo’s surprise. “It took me months, too long, before I recognised your strengths… and as a father I should have taken more time to understand you, know you for who you are and not just who you allow people to see.” 

There lies the difference. Inigo wasn’t speaking to the leader of the shepherds, or even the Exalt of Ylisse, whose first duty was to the people of Ylisse. For the first time, the man in front of him, looking on in earnest and genuine fondness was his father. 

It was hard to pick out, hard to know what felt different, but once it entered his conscious thought it couldn’t be shaken off. _Father father father father._

“Thanks Dad… I did deserve many of those words, the flirty little cheek I was.”

Chrom chuckled. “I did consider taking you to the medic and asking her to check you for mental afflictions.”

“Well then why didn’t you?”

“You would have ended up flirting with her, and I would have helped you on your never ending quest to woo a poor damsel.”

Inigo laughed. Azura would have loved to meet his father. 

Yes. The ache of her death persists still. Inigo wondered, when he will ever be rid of the pain of her going, if he will ever look back on their time without regret and hurt. If he will just continue to drift away from the living for the rest of his life. 

Even now Chrom was giving him an odd look. Inigo bade him goodnight quickly. 

Why did he have to think of her? He thought angrily. Because you still love her, Shot back his brain. 

“True true.” It was going to be a long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got my IGCSE results, and I did so much better than expected. I was decent, but no one saw this coming XD so I was like Ima quickly edit this one ginormous slab of a chapter (for me at least) and post it. 
> 
> 1\. Inigo's hiding some things from his friends and family. He's pretty open with his romantic life (or lack thereof) when it comes to friends, but when it comes to Azura, he's all hush hush. Now why is that? Possibly because only Azura ever gives him the time of day, and only she understood his love for dancing and solitude.  
> 2\. If you ever venture to the awakening supports, you will see that Chrom gets disappointed with him at first, comparing him with Lucina, asking why he can't be as serious all of the time. Here, Chrom recognises that despite Inigo's exterior behaviour, he has as much a sense of duty as Lucina does.  
> 3\. Perhaps more importantly, Inigo keeps on running from his friends and social interactions. He left the mess hall quickly, he left Chrom quickly. He subconsciously fights the social relationships and the reality of what is happening to him right now. A reality without Azura. A world that is both familiar and yet the peace that permeates it is foreign to him, and Inigo just doesn't know what to do with it. What more can you expect of someone who's been fighting wars their whole life? With Grima, he passed a childhood where his guardians left one by one, and he learnt that to survive you can never let your guard down. Then with the war in Nohr, which couldn't have happened too long after there was peace in Ylisse. Of course the poor boy doesn't know how to relax. I don't want to just palm this psychological anxiety off to Azura's death and be done with it. It's years upon years of loss. 
> 
> That's generally it, that's just what I think Inigo has been through. If you like this chapter, well...you could leave something behind? I don't really care what it is. XD
> 
> Edit: I WENT BACK TO THE AWAKENING SUPPORTS FOR MORE MATERIAL AND THE MORGAN AND INIGO SUPPORT IS GREAT OH JEEZ


	7. Dastardly Bastard

_Inigo was staring at his hands. Battlescarred and weathered, light and delicate. He tucked them behind his back and took a deep breath._

_Five Six Seven Eight… Inigo started dancing, his arms flung wide carefully, his feet landing in all the right spots._

_This had to be a proposal worthy for her eyes._

_His hands started trembling and his arms started tensing. With effort he quelled his racing heart, touching his face and realising it was probably as hot as it felt._

_“You deserve to be happy.” said Xander._

_“What on earth could possibly halt your conquest of her?” declared Owain._

_“Stop waiting around!” Peri groaned._

_“STOP MOPING AROUND AND GO GET HER!” yelled Severa._

_Didn’t they know how hard it was?_

_Inigo touched his chest. “It has to be perfect.”_

_He raised his arms to try again.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_

_With all the strength he could muster Inigo shoved at the crowd. “COME ON! MOVE IT!” He screamed at everyone._

_They stared wide-eyed, not knowing what was going on. He pushed and hit at them desperately, and they parted around his hysterics._

_His yelling turned to desperate sobs. “Please...PLEASE let me through.”_

_Triumphant smiles around him faded and turned into looks of concern. One or two people asked him what was wrong. He pushed them away. He caught Owain’s eyes over the heads, and his whooping ceased immediately as he caught sight of Inigo’s fearful eyes. He started to force his way over to Inigo._

_Inigo fell through the crowd and scrambled up, dashing through the door. She came this way._

_She was in pain._

_She was dying._

_The rabble of the army faded behind. The dark moonlit corridor echoed with his frantic footsteps._

_Rang around with his panic._

_“AZURA!” He cried. He couldn’t bear the thought of Azura crawling alone to some corner to die. He wouldn't bear it._

_A weak cough could be heard off to the right. Inigo ran at full speed, nearly tripping over a flight of stairs. Down a corridor and another flight of stairs._

_He saw her._

_Lying still as death itself._

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Inigo bolted upright in bed, heart hammering in his chest. He tumbled off the mattress and stumbled to the door. 

Not again.

He shoved open the door and ran into the woods. 

The nightmares were worse than ever. 

Inigo kept running. 

_The distance between him and Azura seemed neverending when he finally saw her, lying on a balcony._

NO. 

He tore his mind away from the images, and fell back into a clump of grass. 

He quietly wept there. The trees covered up what meagre moonlight shone, and the sky was pitchblack. So different from the clear, star filled sky he spent beautiful nights under, what felt like years ago. 

Its just another night. Tomorrow will be a new day. 

__And he held her in his arms.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Inigo!” A voice snapped with impatience. 

Inigo looked up. “Huh?”

Robin was standing there, frowning at him. “Don't you HUH me young man, I asked you a question!” 

Inigo wilted under her intense glare. “Sorry, could you repeat that?” 

Robin softened. It was a lovely afternoon, with plenty of sun and a full breeze gusting through the barracks. They were stacking supplies together, preparing for a long training trip for the pegasus knights.

“I asked how did you sleep last night?” 

Inigo groaned. “Oh...you are persistent.”

Robin tapped her foot and folded her arms. “Well?”

Inigo shoved at a crate. “Alright. About two hours.”

“And why is that?”

The crate toppled over with a particularly vicious push. “Because nightmares.” Inigo spun around and stared at Robin wide-eyed. “Please don’t tell Father.” 

Robin hesitated. “Well…”

Inigo put his face in his hands. “I’m serious, please don’t tell Chrom, he’ll get all anxious and then he’ll tell Mum, who’s going to BE HERE tomorrow, and I can’t handle her being stressed out about me-”

“Inigo.”

“Huh?”

“You’re rambling.” 

“...sorry. I don’t want her to worry.” 

Robin tapped her finger lightly on the crate she was leaning against. “But you can’t go on like this, she’s bound to find out.” 

Inigo replied automatically, “I’ll live deep in the forest, besides that little stream that runs by my cabin, I’ve scouted out a cave and it’s perfectly private, albeit a little wet…” 

“Oh shhh. Listen, go talk to Morgan.” 

Inigo blinked. “Talk to Morgan.” 

“Yes.” 

“I barely know him!”

“He’s not going to bite, everyone’s friends with him.” Robin quirked an eyebrow. “He’s been dying to meet you since he heard you don’t sleep well, the sweet child.” She smiled proudly.

“You told him about…? Oh, but why him?” 

“Just a gut instinct. Also, he takes psychology at school. He’ll know how to help you.”

Inigo replied quickly. “B-but couldn’t YOU help me? You certainly are smart enough.” 

Robin smiled with delight. “True, true. But who am I to deny my son his pleasures?” 

Then she paused and laid a hand on his shoulder. “You’ll be fine, Inigo.” She said gently. “In the end, all it takes is a little more time.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Inigo crept quietly through the halls of Ylisstol College. The guards had let him in, after checking that he was really Ylisse’s prince. In truth, Inigo himself had almost forgotten that fact. 

As he strode, he placed his hand against the pale marble, let it glide along his fingertips, cool and smooth as silk. Though the hallways were empty, they verberated and buzzed with the chatter of the scholars tucked inside the many rooms. 

Occasionally a teacher or a lone errand boy might sweep past, but they paid him no mind, entirely occupied in their task. The scent of mildew and old scrolls and ink hung in the air, calming when Inigo took a deep breath. 

When Inigo finally reached the library (he had taken a few wrong turns and needed assistance), he gasped silently. 

Giant oaken bookshelves stretched from floor to ceiling, stuffed full of crinkly old parchment and worn tomes, paled and dusted with time. On round tables sprinkled between the maze of bookshelves, were scholars and students studying, their texts illuminated by the lamps that shed golden light. 

This was a place of learning, and though magnificent, Inigo had never felt more out of place. 

He drew a chair at a secluded table in the corner to sit down, and wait for Morgan. Robin told him Morgan would spend a few hours after classes in the library to study. By now the grandfather clock in the middle of the room read four thirty, and the sunlight dripped golden over the floor. He should be here any minute. 

Even now he felt the fatigue from his nightmare induced insomnia lurking, weighing down on his mind, dragging him into the depths of sleep. He watched the afternoon sun inch over his fingertips, and closed his eyes. 

“HELLO INIGO!” Inigo bolted upright just as Morgan dropped a pile of books right next to his head. 

“OH MY god Morgan!” Inigo dropped his voice to a hiss. “Now why would you go and do that?” He cleared his disoriented mind. People were starting to stare, and he had no intention of word going back to Chrom about how his son made a ruckus in the library. 

“Oh sorry, I had no intention to wake you up.” Morgan grinned wolfishly. “We got work to do!” He announced in a sing song voice. 

Inigo grabbed at him. “Right, if you’re going to be like that we might as well leave the library. I don’t want to get kicked out.”

“ARGH don’t touch me I don’t wanna date you!” Inigo’s ears burned red and he groaned. “Also noooo we won’t, the librarians LOVE me.” Morgan smiled with delight at Inigo’s embarrassment. 

He put up his hands in surrender. “Alright, FINE. What do you want to do?”

Morgan glanced at the grandfather clock. “I want to be back here by five thirty. I’ve got a history test coming up and I need to study.”

Inigo raised his eyebrow. “You think you can help me in thirty seven minutes?”

Morgan smiled. “Do you think you can help yourself?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Morgan was a fairskinned, medium height boy with hair the color of rain-soaked wood. What height he had gained had to be from his father, Lon’qu. The feroxi swordsman had also given Morgan his keenly shaped features. 

So though Morgan was five years Inigo’s junior, he was slipping out of the boyish cuteness and edging into what many would consider handsome. 

Inigo caught himself glancing at Morgan one too many times as they escaped from the confines of the college, easily seeing what Soleil saw in him. 

“I approve.” Inigo murmured. 

“Sorry, what was that? Ooh, I think we can sit here!” Morgan said patting his student robes and sitting down with a flourish. 

“It’s a random patch of grass.” 

“Trust me, I’m the therapist here.” Morgan chuckled as Inigo lowered himself opposite him. 

“So...any idea what’s giving you nightmares?”

“Uh…” Inigo faltered. 

Morgan noticed, suggesting, “I guess we should get into the mood for talking first.” 

“Alrighty then.” Inigo racked his brains for any subject. “Ummm...why psychology?” 

“I thought that if I took it, it would render me better equipped to predict the movements of the enemy.”

“But isn’t that already a large part of your tactician training?”

“Well, yeah,” Morgan picked at a tuft of grass. “But it’s not always what both tacticians see, psychols more what our minds choose to see, and the resulting actions and decisions.”

Inigo blinked. “I don’t understand that and I don’t think I want to try.”

Morgan laughed. “So, how happy are you to come home?” 

Inigo stopped himself from blurting an immediate FINE. “Great! It’s great to see just about everyone again.” 

Morgan tapped his chin. “Hmmm...how about leaving that world behind? You must have left a lot of friends.” 

Inigo stared off into the distance. It was really under Morgan’s questioning that he started to appreciate this exact spot Morgan had chosen. It was seated on top of a small rise, from which the slanted sunrays were largely shielded by the large shadow of the amber college. From where they sat, the plain’s dips and swells led towards a pond with waters that sparkled with the setting sun, that lazily dipped into the mountains. 

“Um...Inigo?” 

“Yeah?”

“Oh dear. Mother did warn me about this.” Morgan groaned. “How bout this. Tell me about...Nohr.” 

Inigo muttered, “Sometimes I wonder where you get your information.” 

Morgan smiled, “A therapist never reveals his secrets.”

Inigo started slow, describing the ever overcast sky, how the clouds hung in thick rolls far as the eye could see, how it would occasionally let out a drizzle of rain. The rain would be refreshing initially, then as it went on through the hours, through the days and the weeks it would grow to be a dreary, ever present nuisance. The few days in which the sun shone, despite how slightly, would be practically cause enough for celebration. 

The first cup of tea would be had early in the morning, when the day was still young and cloaked in sheer mist. Inigo could escape to the balcony, cradling a carefully steeped cup of tea; a habit cultivated by his mother a very long time ago. That hour of isolation and silence spent looking over the fog dusted gardens, while Owain slumbered and Severa slept, was one of the best times of the day.

After dark, whenever they were sure all the princes and princesses were safe in their beds, and they had come to an understanding with their fellow retainers with secret smiles and swift handshakes, he would sneak out with the both of them, giggling and ushering each other on through damp and dripping secret passages. Out to the warmth of the underground market. It was risky, to be sure, but there was only so long a person could spend cooped up inside stone walls. 

It felt good surrounded by the glowing stalls, each heaped with more food than could be ever bought above the cobblestones. One marvellous night spent in the midnight market, the heart of Nohr. 

“No, it isn’t.” 

Inigo blinked and looked at Morgan, who was scribbling furiously on a spare scrap of parchment. “I’m sorry?”

Morgan, now fully engrossed in his note taking, muttered, “You don’t really think the market is the heart of what Nohr is to you.” He looked up. “What about the people, meet any friends?” 

In the depths of Inigo’s mind, he felt the blossoming of fear, spreading slow, like splinter sharp ice over the surface of a lake. He shivered. 

“We met many people. Xander, for one was the one I had to protect. Our partners, a lot of which were sinners turned towards a better cause.” Inigo chuckled with the recollection, “Nohrian retainers ranged from childhood friends to failed assassins and thieves.” He paused. The paper thin ice crinkled. 

Morgan squinted at the piece of paper. “That is surprisingly little detail, Inigo. Come on, cough it up, who else was there?” 

The ice expanded and crept over the tranquil waters. Inigo shrugged. 

Morgan sighed. “Well, what about the war? Did you do what you went there to go?” This time he turned his brown eyes on Inigo in an intense stare. “Forgive me for noticing, but all three of you didn’t seem celebratory despite having helped end a war.”

Inigo didn’t know when he started trying to fend off the questions, but now he was internally squirming and anxious to see the end of the session. “We did stop the war, but we don’t know how much help we were, or how long peace will last. The root of the problem persists still, and…” He struggled to find the words, “We worry.” 

Morgan slapped the paper face down in the grass and turned to Inigo. “You’ve lost someone haven’t you.” 

The thick layers of ice weighed down on his mind, crushing his will to continue pretending that everything is okay.

“Excuse me.” Inigo stood up, patted himself down, and turned away from Morgan. 

But he didn’t leave. He felt soft, beaten down, and too vulnerable. Tired and broken inside and out. Tears were spinning at the corners of his eyes, and if he moved, just one step, he feared he might fall apart. Too late he realised the last rays of the sun shone blindly into his eyes, but he couldn’t move at all. 

“There’s a lot of regret in you.” Morgan said from behind him. 

“And maybe, if you’d just stop fighting everything all at once, you’d realise you’re overreacting. From what Owain said, I think the royals over there have their shit all sorted out.”

Inigo’s vision blurred together, and without even thinking it, or feeling it, he found himself saying, “It’s not the only thing.”

“...tell me more?” Morgan prodded.

Inigo sighed. “I’m so tired.” He said absentmindedly.

“There you go again!” Morgan frowned. “Does anyone else know what’s been bothering you?” Inigo shook his head. “You have to tell someone someday. Just start with me. Hey,” He snapped his fingers at Inigo. “Don’t make me hex you.” 

Inigo whipped around and stared at him wide-eyed. 

Morgan looked ashamed at Inigo’s surprise. “Oops. I swear, usually I’m nicer than this.” he frowned. “I think. I don’t know about me before I came here.”

“How’s the amnesia?”

“Not budging, despite everyone’s best efforts. But actually,” Here he smiled. “I’m sort of glad it isn’t.”

“But why? Isn’t that fifteen years of your life down the drain?”

Morgan looked to the sky. “You’re not the only one with nightmares. Patient confidentiality aside, many of the future children have a bad time sleeping. Nightmarish visions of red eyes, twisted and blackened corpses, a terrible dragon that spanned the skies.” he shuddered. “I mean, can you blame me for not wanting to remember?”

“True, true.” Inigo murmured. 

“You don’t get that choice, like everyone else you just have to accept those memories.”

“Okay, okay…” Inigo sat back down. “Oh Naga...what do I say?” 

Morgan raised an eyebrow. “A name would be a nice start.”

Inigo breathed in. “Her name was Azura.”

He breathed out, faltering. 

“And I loved her.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_He fell beside her, one hand brushing aside the hair covering her face, another hand gripping her wrist tightly._

A pulse. 

He gathered her up, away from the cold marble. 

“Laslow dear.” He started, and with his thumb brushed away the wet locks of hair plastered to her forehead. Her amber eyes were lively, and shone brightly as though she were dancing. 

“I was just resting.” He didn’t realise he was crying, until a tear appeared on her cheek. But she was smiling brightly. He bent down and pressed her to him, letting out a choked laugh. It tore harshly from his throat, and he stopped. 

“Let’s go back then, Azura.” He whispered. He straightened up “Please.” 

Another ragged breath. He grasped her arms, her face, touched her hair. Small freckles of shimmering blue scattered over her skin. 

“Laslow. Could you take me to see the stars?” Azura murmured in his ear. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Inigo nudged open the last oaken door. It was set in an old weathered stone wall, and creaked as it was opened. Inigo didn’t take notice of anything except how heavy it felt, how the wood felt torn underneath his palms. 

“We’re here, my dear.” 

He bent to lift her, hands brushing the sheer fabric of her dress as he cradled her in his arms. 

Her skin sparkled dimly in the moonlight, and he felt sick to his stomach. 

The door had opened into the forest, a rarely used old passage that Inigo used before whilst training at the castle. He’d sneak out and go dancing, an anticipatory grin on his face. 

He pressed Azura to his chest and navigated between the trees. 

There was no wind tonight. But the cold air lodged heavily in his throat, and its stillness clung to his fingertips. 

Azura shuddered and coughed as he laid her by the lakeside. 

She opened her eyes and sighed as she took in the stars above. “How romantic. Did you do this for your mother too?”

Inigo doesn’t know what to say, so he replies, “No. We were ambushed, while travelling.”

“Ah.”

Then the silence extends, and Azura’s eyelids are closing, and there is tight panic in his chest, so he blurts out -

“My name is Inigo.”

Azura is still for a moment, then breaks down into coughs. Inigo worries for a second that she might catch a cold, but stops. 

“Inigo.” Azura tests the name, and smiles. “You are quite the man of mystery, sir.”

He smiles weakly back. “If you say so, my lady.” 

There is a light breeze. Azura’s hand twitches and Inigo takes it, folds it in his own. 

The words are out of his mouth before he recognises them himself. 

“There’s so much I have yet to tell you. There is so, so much that we haven’t done together.” The words fall, and they feel empty. Not enough.  
Azura squeezes his hand lightly. 

“I have known grief, but,” He chokes and squeezes her hand back. “I don’t think I’ll ever get the hang of it.” 

He looks down, and the way Azura is looking at him is unbelievably kind, eyes brimming with warmth. 

“For starters,” She smiles as tears leak down her cheeks. “How about a farewell hug?”

So Inigo hugs her, wraps his arms around her and hugs, as the patches of bright light extend across her skin, desperate to remember the feel of her shoulders, the feel of her waist under his hands. 

He felt the solidness fall away under his fingertips, the glow past his eyelids brightening for just a moment, and when he squeezed, all he clutched was thin air.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't posted...since august...I apologise for my absence, and know that those past few months kept me occupied in an irritatingly constant state of analysis paralysis. A lot of ideas have popped up, and I have unfinished work by the buckets. Sadly enough, Love Again is not going to be continued...I cant find the determination :( Though I shouldn't say this, I cringe a bit when I read my first "published" fanfiction...I am certain no one would ever guess my first fandom, it has fallen into oblivion as far as I am aware.
> 
> And...could anyone explain to me exactly what a beta does? I get the general gist of it but just to be certain.
> 
> I hope anyone reading this enjoyed it. Goodnight, and Happy Birthday to me :)


	8. Bells

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a kiss.

For some odd reason, he does not spiral into that cycle of grief and self-blaming after his tentative retelling, and for that he is grateful. Morgan is silent after he finishes, and Inigo is sorely tempted to shake him into saying something, because the images from that night are resurfacing again in his mind. 

He is saved from having to do so when Morgan clears his throat. “So...how are you feeling?” 

Inigo holds up his hand and wiggles his fingers around. “Grounded. All limbs appear to be in working order.” 

Instead of berating him, Morgan mimes writing into his hand. “Subject...showing...signs...of...humour…” 

Inigo chuckles. “But in all seriousness...what was supposed to come of that?”

“Freedom from heavy thoughts, sad thoughts?”

Inigo shook his head. 

Morgan groans, but then perks up and smirks at Inigo. “You do know what’s great about your story though?”

Inigo is quite sure his face shows something caught between being appalled and offended, but Morgan plows on.

“Dem ladies gonna love you now! You would travel the lands, clad in dark and silver, as you embark on your foray of solitude. They would fall at your feet at your heartbroken story of your first love. They would cry, “Oh, that man was such a dastardly bastard, but no one deserves such a fate as such. Pray tell, which one of us possesseth a touch soft enough to healeth thy broken heart?”

There was a moment of silence. Morgan opened an eye to peer at him from his upright pose. “Eh-”

Inigo bursts into laughter, and it surges out of him, even as he rolls over onto his stomach in an attempt to stem it. When he sits back up, his face is noticeably red from the effort of holding it in. “Excuse me, Mr. Therapist, but I must protest this is slander.”

Morgan looks pleased with himself at the results of his acting. “Time to go, Inigo. Stop fighting everything and everyone that tries to help you. And just live. You might find that life is not that terrible after all."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Inigo was born and raised in a burning world. Inigo has helped bring down two ancient and horrifying dragons. 

However, Inigo did not imagine how hard this would be. 

Lucina squeezed his arm. “Stop fidgeting. I might cut your ear the next time you do.”

Inigo winced. His mind conjured up memories of a time long ago, when they were kids, and Lucina cut away entire chunks of his hair in his sleep. 

It did not help his nerves in the slightest. 

His mother was coming back. Olivia had went to Ferox to visit her parents, a couple who lived on the far border of Ferox. It had taken a week for the news of Inigo’s arrival to reach her, and another few for her to come back. 

Inigo stared at the glass. It was his mother after all. There was no cause for alarm, or any sort of nervousness. 

Or was there? For in the back of his mind, there was the niggling doubt he had disappointed his mother. Which in itself was preposterous. His mother would hardly care if he failed at anything, as long as he stayed true to his morals and her teachings. 

It had been years since they last met. 

A sheared lock of hair fell in front of his eyes. He felt fingers card through his hair. “All done.” Lucina said. 

Instead of maintaining the side-swept locks that he usually went for, he had let Lucina cut them just short enough that they would not fall in front of his eyes in combat. 

Practical. A new start. He inhaled deeply and exhaled. 

In the future, when he felt like it, he might let them grow longer again. This was the best choice for now. “Im glad you didn’t scalp me.” Inigo remarked as he felt his hair. 

“The thought passed my mind.” Lucina deadpanned.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“How many times must I tell you? Stop fidgeting.”

“I’m nervous! I can’t help it!”

“Its our mother. She’s the least intimidating person I know.”

“That’s not- I just…WHY did I let you talk me into this.”

“No point in delaying the inevitable, Inigo.”

“It’s just been too long since I’ve seen her.”

“Months?”

“No, years. Three and a half years.”

“Oh.”

Silence.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Inigo watched with anxiety as the carriage loomed closer. He could clearly see the shape of it, the paintwork dressing it in royal hues. Soon he could make out the pair of horses, the leatherwork of the straps distinctly ylissean. Then he could see the color of the wheels, the grain of the wood, as the carriage slowly came to a stop in front of them. 

The footman leapt off the seat and turned to open the door. 

Inigo’s heart was pounding, and the butterflies resurfaced in his stomach, just as his mother stepped out. 

Dressed in a gown of white silk, no longer in her dancers garb. Her heavy ornaments swapped in favour of a pair of small earrings. She nodded to the footman, and Inigo marvelled at her air of silent confidence and command. She was the very picture of a queen. 

Inigo felt the extreme urge to step forward and embrace her, but something in the back of his mind held him back. She was obviously his mother, no doubt about that, but she was so different. So changed. 

That unfamiliarity and unease melted away as she turned and full on smiled. 

“Lucina, Inigo. It has been too long.” 

The next few moments were a blur. Inigo wasn’t too sure who moved first, but one minute his mother was smiling at him, the next he was hugging her, and she was hugging him back. 

It was no illusion the way the sun fell on the flagstones. It was no illusion, the way tears had glinted in her eyes. And it definitely was no illusion the way her arms felt around him, like they were when he scraped his knees as a child, when she held him close and whispered run, when she welcomed him into her untainted world with open arms. 

Inigo was home. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Right. One more go at this.” Inigo huffed. 

A slight rustle. He stilled and looked to his right, where the foliage was thickest. 

He smiled, as he always had to when he sensed her presence. This time though, he felt panicked at being caught, and he realised it probably was evident on his face. 

Nevertheless, he called out to her. "Lady Azura, is that you? Were you spying on my dance practice again?”

Silence. Inigo pressed on. “Come on, Azura. I know all your tricks by now.”

The leaves quivered, and Azura ducked out from behind them, using her staff to lift leaves out of the way. Her expression was curiously guarded, and her steps tentative. "I'm so sorry. I couldn't help myself. You were mesmerizing.” She murmured. She looked down and away from him, in a manner that was almost shy. 

It was adorable, and Inigo yet again felt that urge to reach out and cup her face, to feel how her hair felt between his fingers. It was an effort to keep his fists clenched at his sides. "Thank you. That's kind of you to say.” He smiled with as much charm as he could summon, and extended a hand. “Did you come here to join me?” 

She did not reply immediately. Her eyes watched him searchingly, those golden pools. Her mouth opened slightly, as though she were about to say something, but nothing came out. Inigo started to worry, to wonder if he did anything wrong. 

Inigo suddenly remembered what he had been doing. It was not their gentle waltzes, or those fast, whirling folk dances they did, after which they would collapse on the grass, laughing and out of breath. It was intimate, meant to be a proposal, the symbolisms of which would not be lost on Azura. And she had seen it. 

Oh god. Inigo swallowed. What did she think? He reached towards her staff and grasped it, right above her hand. “Hey. Please…say something?”

Azura wet her lips, and shook her head slightly. Was that a refusal? Inigo pressed closer, almost boldly. Perhaps a lie, a careful one, would get her to speak her thoughts. “That was…a new routine I’ve been working on.” _And I hope you could dance through it with me __, were the words he left unsaid. “Have you any ideas on how I could improve it?"_

She smiled, and said softly, "There's a glow about you. If I didn't know better, I'd think you were in love.”

If I didn’t know better. Ouch. It was like a hot knife scored his heart, leaving him tetherless and adrift. But the other words drew a panic, and before he could think, he blurted, “Uh…no!” It sounded way too high-pitched and defensive, even to his ears. 

Azura was staring at him with an amused smile playing on her lips. He drooped his head. "Where'd you get that idea?”

She waved a gloved hand. “Oh. It’s nothing.” Her tone said she was anything but convinced, but willing to play along with his pretence. "There's a sensitivity to your dancing now... It seemed as though you were thinking of someone special. You can tell me…” Her smile quirked up even further. "Perhaps I could put in a good word for you with the lady in question. Severa, perhaps? Or Peri?”

Inigo stared. She had to be joking. There was no way she wasn’t, with that smile and look in her eye. Just the same, disappointment bubbled up within him, so he turned away, and murmured, “For someone so in tune with everyone else's emotions, you sure can be oblivious…”

“What?”

Inigo found himself focused on the dappled effect of the sunlight on the ground. His lips moved, tired of hiding his affection for her, tired of thinking, consequences be damned. "Milady, it was you. You're the person I was thinking about just now.” 

He sighed, an exhalation that carried his disappointment. "I guess I'm not as good at conveying my emotions as I thought. Clearly, I need more practice!” 

“Wait. Don’t go, Laslow.”

He paused, in the middle of leaving. He turned back and looked at her. 

Azura scrunched her brow as if thinking, all signs of levity gone from her expression. Then she asked, "What did you mean?! You were thinking of me?” 

Inigo looked at her. No turning back. "Milady, I mean exactly that. I'm in love with you.” 

He fearfully awaited silence after that revelation, and it was delivered. His heart hung heavy in his chest. “I’m sorry, Milady. That was out of place.”

"Well, now you're the one being oblivious!”

Huh? Inigo spun around, the question fighting to get out. 

Azura fumbled with her words, both hands now clutched tight around her staff. “I thought that…we shared something special.” Her rare moment of anxiety dissipated before Inigo could fully process it. When she turned to him again, her eyes were ablaze with quiet determination. “I’ve never met anyone else I can talk to about music, or singing, or dance.”

Inigo tamped down the rising joy in him with a giddy chuckle. “Oh? So you wish to utilise me as a dance partner? My, I didn’t know our duets had such an impact on you.”

The corners of her lips curled upwards. "Well, it did. I want to be with you, Laslow, as a dance partner, and otherwise.”

She had barely finished her sentence when Inigo stepped forward, and tenderly, finally, took her face in his hands, and kissed her. He kissed her from the corner of her mouth, where her smile had lingered, then nipped gently at her bottom lip. The staff clanged to the ground as she threaded her hands through his hair, pulling him down, pressing more into the kiss. Inigo groaned, and chased her lips where they went. His mind was gone, only present long enough to register how lucky they were to be in the middle of the woods, before she bit down carefully on his bottom lip and he devoted himself back into the kiss. 

As abruptly as it started, it ended, and Inigo was brought back to awareness by the nearly stinging cold on his face, the throbbing warmth in his lips. He was breathing harshly, and so was Azura, who drew away first, cheeks flushed and chest heaving. 

“Inigo,” She started haltingly, “What if I die in battle? This would be unfair to you.”

Now if Inigo was in any presence of mind to peruse the strangeness of the question, he would have pointed out that anyone could easily die in battle, not her specifically. 

As it were, his mind was full of the kiss and only her, so with giddy happiness and a strangled laugh he reached out to her, still so close after their kiss, and grasped her hands, pulling her closer. “Azura, death does not make you any less deserving of love.” 

He straightened, took a step back, releasing her hands. Azura looked confused for a second, but understood his meaning quickly enough, smiling widely. 

He took a bow. “Milady, will you accompany me again?"

He peeked. Azura’s golden eyes were brimming with happiness. "Nothing would make me happier. I'll sing with you in my thoughts…” She took his outstretched hand. 

Inigo grinned, "...And I'll dance with you in my heart.” He drew her in and dipped her. 

Azura laughed, the sound ringing like the tolling of bells. "May our song never end."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was finally finished. Took well over half a year. 
> 
> This did not turn out as well as I hoped it would, to be honest. An indication of improvement perhaps? What I once viewed as a string of relevant events, I now see to be somewhat, over the top dramatic angst. Well, now that I've got the angst out of my system, perhaps I could do better in the future? 
> 
> Anyhow, cheers, to all the readers that stuck through this with me, for your kind comments, kudoses, and bookmarks (My form of guilty pleasure and midday pick-me-up).
> 
> I drew fanart. I uh...Will just leave that here. (http://brainypaperbullets.tumblr.com/post/157085830407/may-our-song-never-end) Have a good day ;)


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